by Iva Britt
She felt a hand on her shoulder. Her body grew rigid, she looked up.
“Sorry, I'm late. Go stuck in traffic.” Trent brushed a tangle of blonde hair out of his face and sat down. I'm really sorry it's just running around traffic was crazy.
Julie stared at the blonde haired hunk in silence. He'd come out of nowhere. His touch had sent electric shocks through her body, which were still reverberating, moving down through her, dampening her panties, making her flesh tingle. Her eyes fixed on his. She blinked several times, then swallowed hard.
“No worries,” she said, lowering her head and shaking it from side to side.
“What a time to be in NYC,” he said. Have you lived here for a long time?
“The last five years.”
“Interesting. Where are you from originally?”
“Denver.”
“Awesome. I love riding on I-287 up through the mountains. Why did you come to New York?”
Julie's eyes drifted away from Trent and off into the distance. Why had she come to New York? Why did anyone come across the country or across the ocean to New York?
“Same reason as everybody else. Sex and the city. Fun, glamorous life. Love, family.”
“You came to New York to find love and family?” Trent asked skeptically.
Julie narrowed her eyes and stared at him.
He put his hands up. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you. It was just a question.”
Julie waved her hand in front of her face. She couldn't bear to hear any more. It wasn't his fault. She'd already forgiven him.
“It's okay. she said I just suck at my job.”
Trent reached out and put his hand on top of hers. Their eyes locked.
“No, you don’t. I think you did a really good job. It was a bad match from the start.”
Julie's eyes popped open. “A bad match? What do you mean? She seemed like she was really into you.”
Trent snickered, played with his hair, and turned away from her. “Yes, she was really into me. Into my money and my celebrity status. That's about it.”
“That's more than a lot of guys can say.” Julie wasn’t sure where that had come from. But she hadn’t been able to contain herself.
“Well, let’s just say that I set my standards a lot higher than most guys.
Not to be arrogant or anything.”
Julie smiled. Her eyes flickered with desire. “That definitely sounds a little bit arrogant.”
There was a moment of silence.
Then they both started laughing. They spent the next 20 minutes laughing and talking. Julie had never had much interest in athletes or football, but she loved his wild and adventurous spirit. It made her fantasize about the open road, the wind blowing through her hair, adrenaline coursing through her body, her arms wrapped around his torso.
Trent licked his full, kissable lips, and smiled slyly. “Have you ever been on a bike before?”
“A bike? What do you mean?”
Chapter 9
“Just hold on tight. Okay?” Trent said.
Julie nodded up and down. Trent stared at her with a cocky confident grin. She had never ridden before. He was going to give her an experience that she would never forget.
Trent pulled onto the West Side Highway and started flying, blowing past cars, weaving in between them. He felt so free. He loved the feel of the wind on the skin. He loved the feel of Julie’s arms wrapped tightly around him. This was something he had never experienced with Pamela. Sharing the open road with a woman, even though he hardly knew, was even more exhilarating than he had anticipated.
This is what he had been missing. They rode for about an hour and exited the highway in near Greenwich Village.
“I hope I didn't go too fast.”
Her face flushed. She blinked several times. They stared at each other in silence for a few moments. She came forward with her arms wide open and hugged him. He smiled, not quite sure what to do. But then he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her tight to him. A strange energy passed from her body to his. It was unlike anything he'd experienced. He immediately felt a strong connection with her. It didn't quite make sense to him. But it felt so real.
After they broke the embrace, they stared at each other a bit longer. She reached up, grabbed his face, and kissed him on the lips.
“Damn, you're fast. And bold.”
She raised an eyebrow. “So are you.”
Something deep within his soul told him that there was much more to this young woman than he had ever imagined. On the surface, she seemed plain, boring and conservative. Attractive, yes. But bland. But now he suspected that deep down within her, she yearned for adventure, yearned for the open road. That was a life he could give her.
“You ever thought about taking a cross-country trip?” he asked.
“Well, actually yes. Do you happen to know anybody who's looking for a travel companion?”
“I think I might,” Trent said playfully.
Julie took a step towards him, let her hands slide down his chest, and settle over his crotch. She squeezed the hard bulge. Trent closed his eyes and sighed. He could only admire that sort of boldness in a woman.
He leaned his head down. Their lips touched her softly. Once. Twice. Three times. And then their lips locked, their tongues twisted and twirled, darted and sloshed.
He kissed her neck. Nibbled on her ear.
He whispered, “What do you think about spending the weekend together in a five-star hotel, just the two of us?”
“And then what?
“And then we head across the country. Just you and I. Bonnie and Clyde. Wild and free.”
They spent a few more minutes kissing on the sidewalk. Then they got back on the bike. Julie wrapped her arms around his torso and let her head fall onto his back.
Chapter 10
Once in the hotel room, it was only moments before they started tearing at each other's clothes, scratching and clawing, kissing hungrily. Julie could feel her panties soaking wet. It had been so long since she'd been ravished by a man, truly dominated, pleased and pleasured. Oh my God! His hands were so strong, his arms so ripped and hard. He pulled off his shirt, revealing a tattooed, beautifully defined physique. Her eyes fixed on the bulge in his pants. She wanted that cock, wanted it in her hands and in her mouth. She quickly dropped to her knees and began undoing the belt buckle.
Trent leaned his head back and moaned. She reached into his boxers and pulled out a thick, beautiful circumcised, semi-hard cock. She marveled at it.
“Oh my God! That's such a beautiful cock. It's huge.”
Trent smiled. “Don't worry baby. I'll be gentle.”
“No, I don't want you to be gentle. I want you to fuck me really hard.”
Trent’s eyes opened wide. He smiled and shook his head.
Julie gripped the huge balls in one hand and with the other, she worked his cock up and down, from the base to the head. She stuck her tongue into the piss slit and tasted the honey nectar pre-cum.
He was breathing heavy, moaning with his eyes closed. She smiled as she looked up at him. She loved knowing that she could please him, tame that beast, skillfully milk that cock. Her eyes opened wide with desire. Her pupils dilated.
She licked up and down the shaft, swirled her tongue around the huge head.
She reached between her legs and began stroking her wet labia. She brought the juice slicked fingers to her lips, then slipped them into her mouth. She loved the taste of herself. She rubbed the wet fingers around the rim of Trent's ass hole.
“Yes,” he said. “Fuck. That feels good.”
She loved pleasing him, making him moan and groan. She knew that her generosity would be reciprocated many times over. She couldn’t wait for him to fuck her silly, push her over the edge, make her cum harder than she'd ever thought possible. She wanted his seed deep inside of her. She wanted to feel his cock stretching her walls, pumping deeper into her than any man ever had, filling her completely. Never in her li
fe had she held such a beautiful cock. Veins snaked up and down. It was so fucking hard! She was sure that he would shoot a huge load into her.
She got off her knees and stood up. She put her hands on his pecs and squeeze, then let her hands dance down his six pack. “Oh my God,” she said, “I want you inside me.”
He reached down, grabbed her head, and began kissing her on the mouth. He gripped her ass and lifted her in the air. She wrapped her her legs around his torso and0 her arms around his neck. She loved the feel of those strong hands, quarterback, football gripping hands, tightly palming her ass.
She felt his cock going in and out of her. She threw her head back and moaned.
She had never imagined taking something so hard and big inside of her. But it felt so good. There was no need for lube. She was dripping wet.
He pressed her up against the wall and began pounding her thrusting his hips back and forth. They were both sweating and panting and scratching and clawing. Julie could feel her juices dripping down her thighs, an orgasm quickly taking hold of her. Within moments she began losing control of her body, writhing, twisting. Trent gripped her even tighter and thrust even harder.
He let out a loud groan as he shot his seed deep into her. His thrusting hips gradually slowed down until he soon came to a complete stop. Still pressed up against the wall, she kept her arms around his neck and her head on his shoulder.
No man had ever made love to her like that. She'd never completely lost control of her body during an orgasm.
Trent carried her to the hotel bed and gently laid her down. He began kissing the insides of her thighs. She was going to come again and again and again. His tongue moved up and down her labia, across and diagonally. He flicked against her clit head, once, twice, then he put his hands under her ass, pressed his face into her dripping cunt and began sucking. Within seconds she lost control of herself again, spasming wildly. A fountain of fluids shot of her and into the air.
More and more fluid came out of her soaking both of them and the bed.
“Holy shit! You’re a squirter. That’s awesome!
Julie spasmed on the bed several times, rolling over on her stomach, then onto her back. She could feel the wet, puddle of desire underneath. She had never done anything like that. She had never even imagined that she could squirt.
When she had finally gained control of herself, she extended her arms to Trent. Tears of joy rolled down her cheeks. She rested her head on his chest. Her body heaved up and down. She had never imagined that an orgasm could be so powerful, so deeply moving, that it could bring her to tears. He held and comforted her. This was the man she needed. This was the man who would give her the life that she dreamed of.
After three days of frolicking and cavorting, licking and sucking, cumming and squirting, kissing and slurping, they hit the open road on Trent's bike. American style. Wild and free.
THE END
Bonus 17 of 30
Hard Tack, Hard Loving
Description
Nate Hawke returns to his hometown of Remlow Creek to remind himself of where he came from and of the simple joys of running an old town supply store surrounded by nature and horses as far as the eye can see. Whenever the fast-paced life of a New York businessman becomes too much of a grind, there is always escape. There is always the Creek.
But when one of his homeward pilgrimages is disrupted by a one night stand from his city life turning up at the Creek too, the seductive allure of one world begins to bleed into his simpler country existence. Very pregnant but no less sensual than the last time Nate saw her. This golden-haired temptress draws in not only Nate, but his best friend Leo, showing them both that some loves are better shared.
Chapter 1
Nate returned to Remlow Creek early Monday morning. His glossy black car crunching over the dirt roads that constituted a fair number of the minor fairways of the little town. The sun rose over endless grass fields, ascending into a cloudless sky, pale blue and fringed by mountains. The driver, up front behind a glass privacy panel, of, guided the car along a curving path made from stones toward a large brick building with an attached stable. When it glided to a stop, there was no sound at all.
Getting out and setting immaculately polished shoes on the red stone path, Nate rose to his full height, adjusted his cuffs, and leaned in by the driver’s side door to thank his driver, who nodded back, smiling. The car pulled away, painfully shiny and whirling with reflected sunlight Nate strode up the path toward his red brick home away from home. The large double doors opened to him, and the Hard Tack Supply Store ushered him inside, back into familiar, indeed ancestral, surroundings.
A lot had changed here since Nate had first left the place. Not just changed, but updated. The original house had been standing for generations, repaired and rebuilt so many times that nothing of it now was from the Hard Tack’s initial construction. There were still the old rustic wood floors, old windows in cracked frames and poorly varnished interior furnishings. When Nate had left for the big city, that was what the Hard Tack had been— a small place in a small town. However, once he had inherited the place from his family, all that had changed.
In truth, the Hawke family hadn’t had much use for the old house in quite a while. Their business interests were diversified to the point that they had moved out when Nate had been a boy, and Nate himself had only gone back there for vacations, or to see those who had stayed behind. By the time Nate had taken possession of the Hard Tack, it had filtered down in ownership through a series of uncles and cousins. He really had no need for the place himself, financial stability and his family’s business holdings making him well off to the point that he might no longer need to work a day in his life, if he so chose. But like his work, running a publishing house focused on seeking out new talents and allowing them to be heard, Nate found he still had something of a passion for the old home, and Remlow Creek’s small community.
The Hard Tack offered something of an escape for Nate.
For a while he could leave the confines of the big city, step outside of his office and into someplace, not simpler necessarily, just a little immersion into the communal politics of a small town could tell a man exactly how complicated places with populations in the triple digits could be- but different, in a way that Nate needed. He could breathe out there, and there was something to be said for running the store itself, the personal, hands-on skills needed to do that job a welcome change from the more restrained, thoughtful demands of his day job.
Whenever life got to be too much, the Hard Tack was there to welcome him with open doors.
Nate headed upstairs first, to the apartment found on the second floor where he had lived for some portion of his childhood. Once it had been largely bare, during the lean times when the Hawke family had been unable to afford much, but Nate had thrown money at the Hard Tack for months until it was more fit for living. Now, the floors and wallpaper had been completely redone, the floor plan changed to favor the large, open spaces that Nate preferred, given that he was the only person currently residing there, if only temporarily. The shop below had received the brunt of his renovations, new money flowing into the old town and transforming the Hard Tack’s storefront into something much easier to deal with, while still retaining the rustic atmosphere that Nate enjoyed so much.
His bedroom was filled with new furnishings, a large oak closet holding a series of casual clothes that better suited Remlow Creek than the crisp black suit he had worn on the way down. Normally he would have changed before traveling, but last night had been a busy one.
It had also been a fun one, no doubt about that. The bar he had attended had been filled with good times, laughter, and a particularly attractive raven-haired woman that Nate had spent his time with, pale skin wonderful in the nighttime dark, little red dress flowing around her as they got drunker and drunker together, and then closer and closer. He could still smell her perfume on his jacket, the scent of flowers clinging to his collar, reminding him of the soft
ness of her body pressed against him, the sound of her voice rising in ecstasy.
Ah, Mona…
It was possible, Nate supposed as he pulled on a pair of jeans, that this was not her real name. Plenty of people, both women and men, went to bars like the one he had been at for the anonymity after all. The idea was somewhat troublesome, but Nate pushed it out of his mind with relative ease. It wasn’t like he would ever see the woman again, as fetching as she was. He finished dressing, throwing on a plaid shirt and a flashy buckled belt, the kind people in the South seemed to really appreciate, for reasons that Nate had yet to truly fathom. Now more appropriately clothed, he headed back downstairs, thinking wistfully of the taste of Mona’s lips against his, the way she had bounced in his lap with youthful energy. He was only thirty-three, but the rigors of his work sometimes made Nate feel unreasonably old. It had been nice, with that in mind, to be with some cute twenty-something again.
Somehow, the floorboards at the bottom of the stairs retained their characteristic creak, despite having been replaced in their entirety. The sound was a familiar companion, had been with Nate through much of his childhood, there at every morning creeping down the stairs, teenage nights sneaking back into his room after being out far longer than he should have, and now adult days spent occupying this space as a getaway from his life in the city. That sound signified home, to him.
There were other noises too, issuing from within the main ground floor room that served as the shop floor, the sounds of someone moving within. Nate slipped around the corner and into the main room just in time to see a taller, lanky man slide into the seat behind the counter, a cup of steaming coffee in his hand. He rapped a rhythmic little series of taps against the lacquered wood, then shot Nate the finger-guns.
